The Snow That Never Melted : Spring Beneath the Snow Shadows

Arc: [Present] Beijing in November was drenched. A fine, mist-like rain fell in silence. The warm orange glow from the incandescent bulbs inside a small gallery spilled onto the wet pavement outside. Puddles gathered along the sidewalk, reflecting a blurred version of the city. Wind swept through the old brick alleys, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and faint traces of smoke. Cars crawled along the streets, their red taillights stretching into streaks through the curtain of rain. Beyond the walls of a traditional siheyuan that had been converted into an art gallery, silence lingered peacefully. The scent of oil paint, rice paper, and weak tea drifted through the air. Soft guzheng music flowed from speakers hidden out of sight. The melody moved slowly, leaving empty spaces between the notes, as though the musician were waiting for someone to answer. Only silence answered in return. Kate stood before a large canvas with her arms folded across her chest. A spotlight illuminated the textured surface, revealing layers of brushstrokes and scraped paint. The pseudonym Taoying—the Shadow of Peach Blossoms—was written in the lower-right corner. The painting depicted a man placing a peach blossom hairpin into a young woman's hair beneath a towering tree. The snow had been painted in thick, heavy strokes of white. It raged across the scene. The faces of the two figures were indistinct, almost swallowed by the storm. Kate tugged her coat sleeves closer around herself. The room was not particularly cold, yet a chill clung stubbornly to her fingertips. She hated that endless white. Every time frozen droplets struck a windowpane, a deep ache would travel upward from the base of her neck. A bell above the entrance chimed. Short and soft. A man stepped into the gallery. His black coat was damp from the rain. Broad shoulders. Straight posture. An unreadable face. Dark eyes swept across the room before settling somewhere in the center of the gallery. Shen Yanzi had not intended to come here. He had merely instructed his driver to pull over and wait out the traffic. Yet the light spilling from this window had drawn him inside. His leather shoes struck the wooden floorboards in steady rhythm. He stopped a few steps away from Kate. His gaze landed on the painting. Suddenly, his breath caught. The hand hanging at his side clenched instinctively into a fist. The guzheng music in the background seemed to echo inside his skull. Shen Yanzi tightened his jaw. Pain throbbed at his temple. It was a familiar, infuriating pain. He had never understood why his body reacted so violently to snow and winter. Kate turned toward him. She saw a stranger standing motionless before the painting. For the briefest instant, something trembled in his usually cold eyes before it was ruthlessly suppressed. Then he looked at her. "This painting..." His voice was low and rough. His gaze never left her face. "...did you paint it?" Kate froze. Her throat tightened for no reason she could explain. A strange sense of familiarity shot up her spine. She forced herself to breathe. "Yes." Her voice came out softer than usual. "I painted it." Shen Yanzi looked deeply into her eyes. His lips moved. The sound that escaped was hoarse and faint, as though it had not come from his throat at all, but from some forgotten corner of a memory locked away long ago. "My Lady." Kate stiffened. Her breath faltered. A cold numbness spread through her body. Shen Yanzi himself stopped breathing for a moment as realization struck. His eyes emptied. Within a heartbeat, they became cold and distant once more, as though the iron gates had quietly closed once more. There was no explanation. No apology. He turned and walked out of the gallery. The doorbell chimed softly behind him. And Kate was left standing alone in a silence that suddenly felt unbearably heavy. ... Five kilometers away, fluorescent lights cast a cold glow across the tiled floors of a hospital. The smell of alcohol and iodine lingered in the air. Gu Yanzhou stood before a sink in the doctors' lounge. He pressed down on the soap dispenser and rubbed his hands, which trembled slightly. Water flowed from the faucet, washing faint traces of red into the drain. He had just spent six straight hours fighting to save the life of an accident victim. The exhaustion had settled into his bones. He watched the red stain dissolve into the clear water. Suddenly, his vision warped. Gu Yanzhou squeezed his eyes shut. Both hands gripped the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white. Once again, the image returned. A young woman lying lifeless beneath a peach tree. He had never seen her face. Yet the pain twisting through his chest was real. He scooped up freezing water and splashed it across his face. His breathing came hard. Droplets clung to his eyelashes. Gu Yanzhou stared at his reflection in the mirror. ... Midnight. The gallery had long since gone dark. Kate stood beneath the eaves of the siheyuan. The temperature had fallen low enough that every breath emerged as white mist. Rain continued to pour from the sky without any sign of stopping. The screen of the phone in her hand was black. Its battery had died half an hour ago. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and curled inward, trying to preserve what little warmth remained. Headlights pierced through the darkness. A large black sedan slowed and pulled up to the curb in front of her. The rear window rolled down slowly. Shen Yanzi's profile appeared behind the glass. He did not look at her. His gaze remained fixed ahead, watching the rain. The rear door opened. Shen Yanzi stepped out. In his hand was a large black umbrella. He walked directly toward her. His leather shoes splashed through puddles without concern for getting wet. When he stopped, he left enough distance not to make her uncomfortable, yet not so much that the rain could reach her. He said nothing. No greeting. No explanation for why he had returned. He simply held the umbrella out toward her. Kate looked at the fiberglass handle, then at the face hidden beneath shadows. She hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out. The instant their fingertips touched, the faint warmth lingering on the umbrella handle seeped into her freezing skin. It was such a foreign warmth that her breath caught. A sudden tightness rose in her throat. Shen Yanzi released the umbrella. Then he stepped backward into the rain. He opened the car door and climbed inside. The black sedan pulled away in silence. Soon it vanished into the darkness and the falling rain. Kate remained standing where she was. The large umbrella shielded her completely from both the cold and the rain. She stood quietly, gazing into the darkness ahead.